


Pain Is Only Relevant If It Still Hurts

by alovethatconsumesyou



Category: Scisaac - Fandom, Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alpha healing, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, BAMF Stiles, F/M, Feels, Gen, Human!Stiles, Love, M/M, Minor Swearing, Pack Feels, Patient!Stiles, Romance, Scisaac - Freeform, Slow Burn, Teen Wolf, Werewolf Healing, Werewolf!Derek, Werewolves, Wolf Derek, alpha!Derek, doctor!derek, future!Au, hospital!AU, human!Scott, slight drug misuse, sterek, teen wolf alternate universe, triggering flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alovethatconsumesyou/pseuds/alovethatconsumesyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sterek AU: Derek Hale is a young doctor who has taken the medical world by storm, accompanied by his doctors-in-training: Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey and Vernon Boyd. Unknown to the human population, they are werewolves with unlimited healing capabilities. When Dr Hale and his pack relocate to Beacon Hills to help with their under-performing ER, he finds himself treating Stiles Stilinski - a seventeen year old boy who is the son of the Sheriff. Stiles becomes enthralled by the enigmatic doctor and his doctors-in-training, but what happens when Stiles takes his thirst for knowledge to the next step?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm just a silouhette (a lifeless face you'll soon forget):

**Author's Note:**

> So I was on a plane back home when this idea popped into my head and I decided to just write. I have other stuff to work on, but, as my laptop decided to die recently, I'm not sure when everything will be uploaded. Bear with me. 
> 
> [Sterek mostly with hints of Scisaac.]
> 
> The title comes from the song "UNI" by Ed Sheeran, from the album "+". :) 
> 
> This is an AU, so it does not follow the Teen Wolf storyline. Scott has not been bitten and Peter is not an alpha. The Hale family are all dead, but Derek immediately became an alpha. Laura is still alive, too. The Argents are hunters and are in town. Scott and Allison are in an on/off relationship.

When Stiles woke up he was in a lot less pain than what he expected to be in. Sure, he felt slightly confused and tired - which was ridiculous because he'd probably been unconscious for days - but he didn't feel like he'd been hit by a bus. Which is exactly what happened. He looked around him. White walls? Check. Weird smell? Check. Black floor? Check. Lumpy bed? Double ch

_Great. Hospital._

The thing about having ADHD, along with absolutely no common sense or balance, is that you will probably end up having various accidents and incidents that most people don't have. Your brain is buzzing with thoughts that flash bright, but die quickly and then the cycle repeats endlessly. Stiles had been too excited thinking about Lydia's upcoming party that he'd managed to get an invite to that he forgot to check for an oncoming vehicle as he crossed the road. Long story short: Stiles collided with the bus.

So Stiles inspected the uber-clean hospital room with a nagging feeling in the back of his mind - why was he not in pain? Why wasn't he covered head-to-toe in plaster paris? The only thing foreign about his appearance was the drip that was connected to his left-hand. That was to be expected - everyone gets a drip when they're in hospital. Scott even got one when he was in for a broken toe. It's like tradition; a rite of passage.

He'd escaped with barely a scratch, unlike every other time he'd had an accident. It wasn't until Stiles heard a cough that he realised someone was in the room with him. Holding his hand.

Damn, how'd he not noticed that earlier? Maybe he was on a lot of morphine.

However, it wasn't just any someone; Derek Hale was in the same room as him. Derek Hale or, to give him his full title, Doctor Derek Hale. His dad had been talking about this guy for weeks. Apparently he was some big-shot doctor that had been working miracles in the ER and that their death toll had basically disappeared.

That was reassuring.

It didn't really explain why the guy felt the need to hold his hand. Sure, maybe he was into all that "human contact gives comfort" business, but Stiles hadn't exactly been on the land of the living for a couple of days at least. Weird.

Avoiding Dr Hale's gaze, he attempted to remove his hand from between the doctor's fingers. Dr Hale complied immediately and Stiles smiled tentatively. He wanted Dr Hale to know that he wasn't freaked out, he was just... confused. Confused and slightly drowsy.

Not that it didn't feel nice or anything.

Dr Hale didn't smile back; he didn't say anything either. He just raised his eyebrows slightly and got up from his chair. He wasn't wearing a typical doctor's uniform, either, Stiles noted. He looked like he'd just arrived in from a rock concert and he didn't own a razor. He was wearing a black leather jacket, with a light grey henley and dark blue jeans. Plain clothes that didn't look so plain on him. Stiles averted his eyes once he realised he'd been staring at Dr Hale's bottom in his too-tight jeans for, what could be counted as, an unreasonably long time. Maybe he was actually off-duty and Stiles' accident had caused him to be called into work.

That did seem plausible; Stiles had heard some worrying things as he was rushed into the ER. Nurses had told his dad that he was "in the best place possible" and that they were doing everything they could, but that he had to prepare for the worst. Stiles knew it was bad. He felt his body flip into the air as it hit the bus and he felt bones break. Bones that definitely weren't broken now.

Panic set in and Stiles wondered if he'd done more damage than he'd thought. He was in a side-ward and they were usually set aside for either very rich or very sick people. Stiles wasn't rich, so that left the other option: he was very sick.

He'd heard about people who had broken their back or neck and had become paralysed from the waist down. He couldn't feel any pain from his legs and that was weird, considering they had basically crashed underneath him. There had to be something wrong.

Doctor Hale chose that exact moment to speak to Stiles and break his train of thought.

"You're awake," he said softly in that voice. The sort of voice that accompanies the death phrases, as Stiles likes to call them: 'we need to talk', 'your mom isn't getting any better' and the now recent, 'you're now paralysed from the waist down'.

Surprisingly what he said next wasn't either of that.

"Well, Genim, you and everyone else that's been visiting constantly will be pleased to know that you're improving by the hour. You'll be out of here in no time."

Improving?

"What? Is everything all right? You're not in any pain are you?" Dr Hale asked, looking up from the tablet he was inputing information in and seeing the slightly sour expression on Stiles' face.

Stiles was having a hard time processing.

"So I'm not paralysed?" he blurted out.

Dr Hale's eyebrows furrowed slightly, "Should you be?"

"Er, yes?"

Stiles didn't mean it to come out as a question, but Dr Hale's question had him questioning himself. Definitely weird.

"Well, Genim-"

"Stiles," he interrupted, "My name is Stiles. Not Genim."

Dr Hale smirked at that.

"Well, _Stiles_ ," he said, emphasis on his name, "as I said before, you're progressing well. I'll let your father in to see you."

Dr Hale left abruptly, turning around and closing the door behind him mechanically. Stiles breathed out a sigh of frustration as he waited for his dad to arrive, hopefully with Scott and Lydia in tow. Who was he kidding? There was no way Lydia Martin would visit him in hospital.

____

Turns out Stiles could make two mistakes in one day.

Right infront of his eyes was the beautiful Lydia Martin, the one and only Lydia Martin. He wasn't actually dreaming or hallucinating on medication. She was actually here.

Stiles' breathing hitched slightly when she entered the room and his dad snorted when he saw the effect she had on him. The Sheriff and Scott practically ran over to Stiles and hugged him. Stiles winced slightly as Scott gave him a large bear hug. Lydia watched on as the scene played out, unsure of what to do.

"Dr Hale said you'll be home in a few days," Scott said excitedly, "Isn't that great?"

Everyone in the room was radiating happiness. From what Stiles picked up on, he must have been on the edge of death.

"Yeah. Glad to be on the mend."

The Sheriff pursed his lips before speaking, "I don't know what he told you, but-"

"He didn't tell me anything," Stiles interrupted, "apart from that I'm getting better."

"Well..." The Sheriff said slowly, "You nearly died, son. Internal bleeding and force of impact. You weren't breathing for over a minute before Dr Hale arrived. If it wasn't for him..."

The Sheriff trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. Stiles knew what he was going to say: If it wasn't for Dr Hale then Stiles would be dead. Stiles couldn't help shivering at the thought.

Dead. Not alive. Not breathing.

He had been so close to not existing any longer.

"Hey! You're fine now and that's all that matters," Scott said, being the concerned friend and optimist.

"Yeah, I know. I'm fine... really. How long was I out for?"

"Well, you were hit by the bus this morning around 8 and then-" The Sheriff began.

"This morning?"

"Yeah and then you were rushed to here. They were trying to stop you from bleeding out when Dr Hale arrived. He just... I don't know. He fixed you up good and proper, you know? Then he said you needed to rest and that he'd stay with you. It's about half seven now, so you've had a rough time of it. We had a little chat while one of his doctors-in-training looked over you while you settled. It was scary, Stiles. I thought you'd left me."

His dad's eyes began swimming with tears as he spoke and Stiles patted his arm.

"I'm okay," he reassured his dad, "I just can't believe it was this morning. I thought I'd been out for days. Hell, I feel like I've been out of it for days."

Scott and Sheriff Stilinski glanced at each other before focusing their attention on Stiles. Stiles watched their interaction closely and realised this is how it was going to be for the next few weeks. Great.

"He's quite the doctor isn't he?" The Sheriff asked innocently.

Stiles narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Dr Hale? Yeah, he's... uh," creepy? weird? definitely not human? "interesting."

Interesting wasn't a good enough word; the guy was a freaking enigma.

"He told me the same thing three times using different synonyms. He's definitely an owner of a thesaurus," Stiles babbled, "and he said I'll be out soon! Isn't that great? Still don't get how I have no bruises or broken bones, but whatever!"

Stiles' eyes scanned the room quickly to change the subject.

"Hey, Lydia?"

Lydia's eyes met his nervously and she smiled. Lydia Martin was nervous? There's a first for everything.

"I don't really want to interrupt any longer. Do you want me to go?"

Stiles nearly jumped up in shock, "What? No! Don't leave... uh, unless you want to. Wait, no. That sounded rude, but I didn't mean for it to be. Woah."

The Sheriff shook his head in the background and clapped a hand to Stiles' shoulder.

"What I mean is: why are you here? You and me," he gestured to the space between them, "we aren't, you know, close friends or anything."

Lydia looked slightly surprised for a minute and Stiles wondered if he should have kept quiet.

"I just came to see how you were. Everyone's been here today, but if you want me to go..." she said.

"Oh, no. It's just that we've never actually spoken before. I hoped our first conversation would involve a more able version of Stiles."

More abled version of Stiles? Smooth

Stiles really did need to control his brain to mouth filter.

Surprisingly, Lydia actually laughed. Granted it was polite and controlled, but still. Stiles had succeeded and there were witnesses.

The Sheriff had brought cards that people had left into the station for him. There were loads of them, signed by people that Stiles had no knowledge of. Turns out that being the Sheriff's kid gives you some kind of fame in a small town. Definitely weird.  
...

An hour later and visiting time was over. Sure, the Sheriff could probably bend the rules and stay for longer, but (1) he didn't want to 'abuse' his power and (2) he could see that Stiles was getting more worn out as the minutes ticked by. All three of them kissed him lightly on the head and promised to return tomorrow - even Lydia. Stiles smirked to himself as they left.

Job well done.

His afterglow was ruined by a sharp knocking on the door. He groaned internally at the thought of a nurse poking and prodding him to take blood. He was in more pain than he had been when he woke up, but he didn't really fancy any pain medicine.

With a sigh he called out: "Come in."

However, his visitor wasn't a nurse; it was Dr Hale.

Stiles groaned internally again because it was Dr freaking Hale. He wanted to cringe earlier when his dad had made a pointed comment about the doctor. Sure, he was pretty good looking, but he was weird. Not creepy weird, just weird weird. Enigmatic.

"Your dad looks a lot happier," Dr Hale noted.

"I tend to have that effect on people," Stiles replied, a little drier than he'd intended.

Dr Hale didn't say anything else, he just tapped a few times on the tablet screen, watching Stiles in the process. Stiles felt his mind turn to jello as the doctor stared at him intently. Stiles thought it was the light, but he could swear that Dr Hale's eyes flashed amber as he stared at him. Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but the words couldn't come out right.

"Everything okay, Mr Stilinski?"

Dr Hale was evidently aware that Stiles had something on his mind.

"I thought... oh, doesn't matter. I told you. It's Stiles. Not Genim."

"All right, then. Everything okay, Stiles?"

"Better," Stiles grimaced.

There was a loud activation noise and Stiles heard a faint trickle of water. He looked beside him to the drip that was connected to his left hand. Fantastic.

"It's just some pain medication, Stiles. You'll feel better in the morning."

Stiles had learnt about pain medication and he knew something was definitely up. He shouldn't been feeling better so quickly. However, he couldn't seem to form coherent thoughts as he drifted off into a painless and oddly peaceful sleep. The last thing he could remember was a warm hand on his arm and the feeling of pain being suctioned from his body and leaving him.  
_________

Stiles woke up 10 hours later completely alone.

His door was shut and the room was freezing due to the fan that had been left on all night. Stiles stepped out of bed to turn it off when he realised that he probably shouldn't be out of bed. It was definitely weird. His legs had been cooped up for so long that they welcomed usage. He didn't feel weak or shaky or in pain - he just felt tired.

Stiles could hear raised voices and he decided to investigate. It was around 5AM and he thought most people would be asleep. As he passed most of the patients on his way to find the voices, he realised that most people were asleep. Who did the voices belong to?

Soon enough, he found the owners. It was Dr Hale and Allison's dad, Chris Argent. Stiles wasn't really sure because he'd only ever seen Chris Argent sitting in his car waiting for Allison. It was Scott who had the pleasure of seeing him nearly every weekend, not him.

They were arguing over a patient, Stiles assumed due to their constant mentioning of a cure. Chris Argent mumbled something that Stiles couldn't hear and then Derek shook his head. Stiles crept closer to them, curious to what they were talking about. He knew it was wrong, but he was bored.

"I follow The Code. You know that." Chris Argent said.

What the fuck? Code? What do they do, deliver messages to each other every night in Morse Code?

"It doesn't mean I'll turn a blind eye if I find out you bit him," Chris Argent continued, "you may not be rabid, but a new one will be and you know it."

Dr Hale raised his eyebrows.

"You know I didn't. All I'm doing is trying to save lives - not ruin them."

Dr Hale stopped suddenly and looked around.

"Someone's here," he said, "you should leave."

Dr Hale turned on his heel and walked over to Mrs Clary, the sixty year old lady who was standing just outside her door. Huh, Stiles hadn't noticed her there.

"Ann, is there something you need? I'll help you back into your bed and then we'll sort it out."

Derek disappeared into her room and Chris Argent sighed heavily, leaving the hospital quickly. Stiles' head was buzzing with questions: what did Chris Argent want? What were they talking about?

Stiles shook his head as he made his way back to his room, muttering under his breath as he walked. Sleep, he decided, would be a good idea, and he was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He was asleep for maybe ten seconds when the fan was turned off from the security switch at the desk.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles woke up a few hours later in the company of a gorgeous blonde doctor-to-be. Her name was Dr Reyes, but she told Stiles to call her Erica. She told him that Dr Hale had an emergency to sort out and that she would be looking after him today.

 _Yeah, a Chris Argent shaped emergency_ , Stiles thought to himself.

"I hope you're not put off because I'm not 100 percent doctor," she joked with him.

"Nah, it's good. I'm getting better anyway," he replied.

She grinned appreciatively at him and then began tapping on the tablet screen again. Stiles watched her movements intently. She was very tall - taller than him by about 3 inches - and extremely toned, but with slight curves. Her hair fell in ringlets past her shoulder and had a glossy sheen. Attractive. He also noticed how she walked gracefully; yet quickly, as if everything was happening too slow for her liking.

Erica finished with the tablet and perched herself on the edge of his bed, taking his hand in hers. Stiles felt his heart beat quicken as she touched him, and apparently she could tell as well. She gave him an exasperated look, but kept hold of his hand.

"I'm just taking the pain away, Stiles," Erica said, her tone was firm.

"Yeah, I-I know."

Stiles was beginning to feel sleepier by the second, which was strange. He'd slept for hours and hours, yet every time he woke up and saw a doctor, his body longed to sleep again. He closed his eyes regretfully and let his mind wander for a few minutes. Even with Erica in the room, he didn't feel awkward or obliged to talk to her. Right there and then, all he really wanted to do was sleep. It was like sleep was the only thing he wanted; his main priority.

Huh, definitely weird.

He was still half-conscious when Erica stood up, letting go of his hand. She closed the door quietly behind her and left him all alone. Stiles didn't feel sleepy or drowsy anymore, but he did feel better. A lot better.

His dad was definitely right about these guys, they were geniuses.

...  
The next few days passed quickly without incident and Stiles was recovering well. He didn't see much of Dr Hale or Erica, but he was seen to regularly by another of his doctors-in-training: Dr Isaac Lahey.

Now, Isaac fit the pattern like the other two. He looked like he'd stepped off a runway when he came in to see how Stiles was doing. Stiles' mouth gaped as he took in all 6 feet of Dr Lahey, who gave him a michevious smirk upon entering the room.

"Stiles Stilinski?" he asked.

"The very one," Stiles replied

"I'm Dr Lahey. You can call me Isaac. I'm one of Dr Hale's doctors and I've been assigned your case along with Erica and Boyd."

First name basis, just like Erica. Double weird.

Who is Boyd? Stiles asked himself.

Isaac glanced at Scott, who was sitting beside Stiles' bed.

"You must be Scott McCall."

Scott flushed, "That's me."

Isaac nodded as if he was a teacher and Scott had answered the question correctly. Isaac then offered his hand to Scott, who shook it firmly and gave Isaac a wide grin.

"You know my mum? Melissa?" Scott asked.

"I was speaking to her earlier. She mentioned that you'd be stopping by to see Stiles. I, uhm, didn't mean to interrupt."

Isaac quickly turned from a confident, cocky guy to a stuttering boy after one conversation with Scott.

Definitely weird.

Scott shook his head, "No, no. Actually I have to go... sorry. I've got, uh, something to do. But at least you'll be in good hands, right?" Scott looked from Isaac to Stiles and smiled happily.

"Allison?" Stiles asked, giving Scott a sneaky look.

"Something like that," Scott mumbled.

"Well don't let Argent Senior bust your ass again sneaking into her room. I'm in the hospital now, remember? I can't come save you." Stiles said jokingly, earning a blush from Scott.

Stiles swore he heard Isaac wince when he mentioned the word 'Argent', but shook his head, putting it down to the little mini-crush he suspected Isaac was developing. Hell, Scott was an attractive guy. He could see where he was coming from. Kinda.

Scott pouted, headed for the door and stopped before leaving. He turned around, hand on the side of the door, and spoke quietly to Stiles.

"Don't do anything silly while I'm gone. I mean it."

Stiles interrupted him, protesting about how he was in a hospital and how he was being kept on lockdown by all the hot doctors. It earned him a raised eyebrow from Isaac, but still. It was true.

"Well, that is right. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow buddy."

Scott left and Isaac turned back to him. He had slowly gravitated towards the door, following Scott subconsciously. Stiles wondered why Dr Isaac Lahey would possibly do that and then he adamantly stopped his brain wondering why. Sometimes there were things you didn't really want to think about.

Especially about your best friend.

"Who's Allison?" Isaac asked casually. He was apparently on the same train of thought as Stiles.

Fantastic.

Stiles pouted slightly, but relented at Isaac's expression. He was trying to act like a normal doctor: asking questions with uninterested voices. However, his mouth twitched unnaturally as he spoke, causing Stiles to zero-in on his obvious interest.

"Scott's on/off girlfriend. I'm not actually sure anymore. I think they're more 'off' than 'on' nowadays, if you get what I mean." Stiles replied.

"Ah, I see."

Stiles didn't say anything else and let the subject drop awkwardly. He was hoping that Isaac would let it drop, too. Isaac, thankfully, received the hint and started up a completely different conversation. They were talking animately for several minutes about television and complaining patients that grace the ER, when Dr Hale entered the room, effectively silencing their conversation.

"I guess that's my queue to leave and let the expert do his job," Isaac said, a faint trace of mockery in his voice as he nudged Dr Hale on the shoulder, "I'll leave you to it."

Stiles realised he was actually really lucky as both Erica and Isaac were genuinely nice doctors - albeit they were doctors-in-training. Dr Hale, on the other hand, was a lot more work. Stiles smirked internally at the interrogation he was going to give the doctor.

Isaac left and it was just the two of them. Stiles hadn't seen him in days; he would've thought the doctor was off work, but he'd heard snippets of what he'd been doing from Erica. Stiles was curious and that didn't really work out.  
Ever.

Dr Hale lifted his head in a half-hearted acknowledgement nod and Stiles widened his eyes slightly in response. Stiles let him have a couple of seconds to sweat before he began the interrogation. He wanted to know what Chris Argent wanted, but he didn't know how to ask without sounding suspicious.

He opened his mouth to ask an innocent ' _what have you been up to?'_ question, but Dr Hale lifted the tablet that he, Isaac and Erica had used earlier and began tapping information into it. Stiles couldn't see what they were doing and it began to irritate him.

"What exactly do you do on that thing?"

Stiles didn't realise he was talking until the words were out of his mouth. Dr Hale raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Just monitor you each hour. It connects to the lab computer and then we can check for anything unusual." he said.

"Unusual?"

"Yeah," Dr Hale gave him an incredulous look, "You're in a _hospital_. What do you _think_ we do? Check under your bed for monsters?"

Well, he didn't have to get pissy about it.

"I just meant... no. What do you mean, unusual? Why not 'anything wrong' or 'signs of possible paralysed victim lying in this bed'?"

"You're not still going on about that, are you?" Dr Hale asked him.

"Yeah, actually, I am. How do I not even have a scratch?"

Dr Hale shrugged, "You got lucky. It happens sometimes."

"No, I don't believe that. Luck is for pretty boys that drive Porshes and buy overpriced T-Shirts. Me? I'm not lucky." Stiles said.

"Well, you were this time. You were lucky that I got here in time, otherwise you'd be doing a lot less than ungratefully talking about your miraculous recovery," Dr Hale said, his voice rising slightly.

Great, now he's super pissy.

Stiles held his hands up in mock-surrender, "All right, doctor. I was just speculating, okay. I'm incredibly bored and I have nothing to do during the day apart from talk to people who look at me like I need help. What sort of idiot walks infront of a bus? If my dad wasn't the Sheriff and I hadn't nearly died, I think most of Beacon Hills would have came to the hospital to laugh at me."

And now Stiles was talking about himself, which was not good because he was getting angrier and more annoyed by the second. Dr Hale, on the other hand, was watching his mini-meltdown with an amused expression.

"Calm down, Mr Stilinski. I'm sure that most of the kids your age will have moved on to the latest hot topic by now. There's no need to get stressed about it." Dr Hale sounded bored when he spoke, not looking at Stiles.

"Do you mean to be such a patronising asshole, or is it just one of your personality quirks?" Stiles blurted out confidently and then froze, seeing the doctor's expression, "Oh shit. I really didn't mean-"

Stiles closed his eyes, expecting Dr Hale to lose his cool and whack him on the head, just like anyone else would have. However, this wasn't anyone else and Dr Hale had some serious self-control. Stiles heard - what could only be described as severe laughter - and opened one eye cautiously. Infront of him, Dr Hale was actually laughing.

Weird.

"It's been a long time since someone actually spoke their mind around here. Around me, actually. It's definitely refreshing." Dr Hale said honestly.

_What the - ?_

It was Stiles' turn to raise his eyebrows as he looked around the room before he spoke. He was definitely surprised at the reaction of the doctor.

"Oh, sorry, I was just checking that you were talking to me. You don't actually seem like the compliment type, so, you know, I was unsure of who you were talking to."

"Careful, Mr Stilinski. One would think you're trying to flirt with me," Dr Hale said lightly as he left the room, shutting off the light and closing the door.

"Ugh. Dick." Stiles muttered when the door closed. Later, he would swear that he heard a faint laugh from outside the door.

Stiles turned over to lie on his left side and pulled the sheets up over himself. The room was weirdly cold - despite the fan having left him days previously - and he was desperate for heat. He lay there in silence and darkness for hours; thinking and thinking and thinking. That was all there was to do in the hospital. His dad wouldn't bring his phone, claiming that it would 'interfere' with the hospital machines. He told his dad that it was 2013 and that stuff didn't happen anymore. Nevertheless, his dad didn't relent and Stiles was stuck in the hospital with nothing to occupy him.

He was never a morning person, preferring to stay up all night on his laptop and sleep-in until late afternoon. Only on weekends, though. School mornings require a very unholy six thirty AM start. Stiles always found something oddly peaceful about working when most of the humans in the world are asleep. His definition of an early night would be half-one in the morning. He would never even refer to half-one as morning; as far as he was concerned, it was still night-time until he went to sleep.

So Stiles had nothing to occupy him, but his body wouldn't fall asleep. He had done the damage and ingrained a very unhealthy sleeping pattern into his unfortunate self, and now he was doing to have to face the repercussions. Being bored was going to drive him senile.

Thinking was going to drive him senile, too.

He tossed and turned, furrowing himself further into the crappy hospital blankets, as he let his mind replay what happened with Dr Hale. Had he sassed too much? Did Dr Hale think he was a nutjob? It had to be a negatory to both of those questions. Dr Hale hadn't mentioned Dr Morrell, the creepy but hot therapist you were visited by if one of the doctors thought you were losing your mind. Mrs McCall had told him enough stories about people that qualified a visit from her. Stiles knew he wasn't one of them.

What about the laugh, though? Stiles had earned a laugh out of the surly doctor and that should count for something. And that flirting comment?

 _He's totally trying to flirt_ , Stiles told himself. Another voice in his head answered it harshly, _yeah and why would anyone flirt with you? You're seventeen years old. No hot older man would want your tight little virgin ass._

Great. Now he was having a gay crisis.

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next instalment. Sorry for the delay! I know you probably (a) don't care and (b) don't care, but I have the same problem as Stiles. I find it ridiculously hard to fall asleep at night, but once asleep I can sleep for a crazy long time. I have no idea why. Ugh.
> 
> Anyway, on a happier note: is everyone excited for tomorrow? #Moonday and the season finale! I haven't watched the leaked version, but I've heard snippets. Sigh. I hope no one dies!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so it's been a while... but here I am, uploading the next chapter for you guys. School has been craaaazy and I've been sick :( sorry for the delay. Anyway. I hope you like it + please feel free to criticise/moan/tell me what I'm doing wrong (as people love to do!!)

Slowly but surely the next day arrived. Stiles couldn't wait to see Dr Hale, but he knew that every day that passed could be the last - his time in the hospital was nearly up. All his wounds had pretty much healed and, according to Erica, the scarring would be minimal. Of course. Stiles couldn't shake the feeling that something weird was going on in the hospital. Beacon Hills had literally gone from the murder capital of California to the sanctuary of angels in the space of a few months, and surely that was not possible. He'd exhausted every possibility in his brain, but nothing seemed viable. Drug deals - no. Mafia - no. Aliens - definitely no. 

He didn't know why he was so compelled to figure out what was going on... if something was going on. He just felt that he had to; that it was his duty to figure out. Maybe it's just an excuse for being nosy, but Stiles would take it. Boredom definitely drove his mind to carving up every little piece of information it could find. 

It was a Thursday. Stiles would normally be in his surly mood about being in hospital - just like the past couple of days. However, today was Thursday and he wasn't in school. Stiles counted this as a massive win as Thursday consists of two hours of cross-country with Coach, alongside a double period of English with his god-awful English teacher, Ms Blake. Her smug, snide comments coupled with her lack of people skills caused, what Stiles considered as, a pretty decent subject to be turned into his idea of hell. The only thing that made English bearable was the fact that Danny sat beside him and sometimes smiled. 

Sometimes. 

But today was Thursday and he was still in hospital, despite the lack of illness or injury. Everything seemed to be working pretty normally, so what was the issue? He had been awake for over two hours and not one doctor or trainee had come to check on him, which caused Stiles to think that he was not being monitored. So, Stiles being Stiles, he decided to do a little digging of his own - just for good measure. 

He pulled the drip that was fastened into his arms and shoved his feet into his sneakers, removing the nightgown that he was wearing and replacing it with his blue jeans and sweatshirt that his dad brought up the other day. No one would know that he was a patient, they would just think he was visiting someone. Unless he bumped into his dad or Lydia, but that wasn't likely. 't knew where he was going, but he didn't know what exactly he was looking for - clues, perhaps, but nothing seemed out of order. The whole hospital was clean. Ridiculously clean. So clean that Stiles could probably eat out of a toilet and catch absolutely nothing. In fact, he could probably eat out of the toilet and catch a cure for cancer. Something was definitely up. 

He headed to the lift, deciding that maybe the best indicator of anything would be somewhere a little less available to the rest of the patients: in the morgue... or below ground floor. Everything from the waist up in the building seemed spot on, but the rest of the place could be anything but. Stiles reached the lift and pressed the button to call it. The light flickered red and then green, and then red again, signalling that the lift was about to open. As he waited, he fiddled with his forearm which was oozing droplets of thick red blood. The door finally opened and Stiles walked in, the temperature dropping slightly once inside the lift with the door closed. He took a deep breath and noticed that he could see it as he exhaled. Definitely weird. He looked at the floors: 1st, Ground, Morgue, 0. His fingers ghosted over the buttons before he pressed the bright blue one labelled: "Morgue". The lift began to chundle down, creaking and groaning occasionally. It reached the morgue with a ping and the doors opened slowly. 

It was not what Stiles was expecting. But then, what was Stiles expecting? The floor was made of pure white marble, ice cold and hard. The ceiling was black and the walls were pure white. It was a wide, open room with rows and rows of pathology tables. Some of the tables were dressed to accommodate a corpse, but some of them were completely empty, showing that an autopsy had been performed on them within the past while. But the one thing that surprised Stiles was the noise. He was expecting maybe one coroner and a few bodies, maybe something fishy or overly-suspicious. However, this was just a pretty healthily run hospital morgue that had been changed and upgraded by the owners of the hospital. Strange.

Maybe the fact that the hospital was behaving so unlike a hospital was what caught Stiles attention: the lack of death, the overly clean building, the organisation. This was not something that could be said of a typical American hospital. Hell, there have been hundreds of news stories complaining about the lack of nurses, the cost of health care and the attitude of those in the profession. The attempt to make the hospital the idea of a hospital made it stand out like a sore thumb. And that was what Stiles couldn't put his finger on. The reason why the hospital was so perfect. But he knew now. 

The people running the hospital weren't experienced or overly involved in the medicine industry, and Stiles wanted to know why.


	4. Rash Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just want to post a slight trigger warning!? I don't really know, but there is a mention of slight drug abuse in this chapter, but NOT FOR THE NORMAL REASONS. STILES ISNT DEPRESSED OR EVEN IN PAIN!! He just does it cause he wants to stay in the hospital for his reasons.  
> I would also like to thank everyone who took the time to comment or leave kudos. You guys are awesome!

The next day arrived with little surprise - Erica woke him up at half seven to tell him that he was being discharged. His reaction to that must have been expressed clearly on his face because she narrowed her eyes and sighed a little bit. 

"Most people are happy when they get to leave hospitals, you know. I know that my last patient, Jim, has been counting down the days until he can leave... What can I say Stiles, you're definitely a strange one." 

Stiles frowned, "But you like hospitals, don't you? Since you work in one. How am I any different. Maybe I'm just using the time to suss out whether it's a good option for me to go into medicine. You never know." 

"Yeah, I like my job, but I'm not overly-attached to it that I don't want to leave. Hospitals can be stressful." said Erica. 

"But this hospital isn't stressful. Nothing major ever happens anymore, ever since Dr Hale came to Beacon Hills. No deaths, no injuries, no stress." Stiles said, his voice feigning innocence. 

"I don't know about that, Stiles. Stuff like that does go on, but Dr Hale is an incredibly meticulous doctor and friend. He's the reason I got into medicine; he treated me back in New York and I got my life back. So I guess I'm grateful to him, and I will continue to be grateful to him." Erica said. 

"Woah, I never would have thought that. You must really like the guy." 

Erica smiled, "Well, sometimes he can be a right pain in the backside, but he's Derek. I was this lonely outsider of a teenage girl with Epilepsy. And one day I was rushed into hospital after taking a seizure and there he was. He helped me through it and he was there for me when no one else was. I suppose you could say that I had a bit of a crush on him back then." 

Stiles' eyes widened. "You did?!" 

"Yeah, of course I did. I was spotty and ugly with dark, course frizzy hair. And he was - and still is - a gorgeous, muscular guy with dark hair and dark eyes. What's not to love?" She laughed to herself, "But Derek wasn't interested... if you get what I mean." 

"But now, you're... well you're... pretty wow..." Stiles faltered. 

Erica laughed again, this time at Stiles. "I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't have been interested, even if I looked like a Victoria's Secret model, never mind what I look like now. He's just not in to my type." 

"So he's married?" Stiles asked. 

"No. Listen, forget I said anything. It's not my business to tell, and I'm sure that Derek would not be pleased with me diverging his deepest secrets about his sexuality-" Erica stopped suddenly, realising she'd said too much. She looked sharply at Stiles, giving him a death stare before continuing. "Now I'd really like to check your bloods, just before we let you leave." 

"Yeah, sure, okay," Stiles said, sticking his arm out for her. She examined his arm slowly before sticking the needle into a vein and fastening the capsule tight. Her eyes met his briefly and Stiles noticed that they flashed amber for a second, before returning to their normal shade of brown. Weird. Erica didn't seem to notice - or care - and she continued to fill up the capsules with blood from his arm. 

"Everything okay?" Erica asked, noticing Stiles' slightly pensive mood. Her lips pouted and she tilted her head a fraction to the left as she asked him, almost distracting his mind from its previous thought. Almost. 

"Yeah, uh huh, sweet. Sweet to the beat," Stiles said quickly, "Nothing's wrong, no. Not anything at all. I mean, what could be wrong?" 

Erica nodded before smiling widely at him. "Good. Well, I'll leave these off to get tested and I'll tell Derek that you're ready to be checked over again. See you later."

And with that, Erica sashayed confidently out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her and leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts. 

....

"So the bloods say that you're pretty much back to normal," Dr Hale said brightly, "but I think that we can tell that just by looking at you. Everything's fine and mended, so you're pretty much good to go. Do you want me to call your dad or Scott?" 

"Scott, why Scott?" Stiles asked abruptly. He found it weird that Dr Hale would ask him if he wanted Scott to pick him up... almost as if he knew that Scott pretty much took him home from everywhere. 

"Well your dad is the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, " Derek said smoothly, "I thought he would be a little busy seeing that it's almost noon... but if not then I can give him a ring." 

Stiles nodded in realisation, "Yeah, okay. See what he says. If not, then give Scott a ring." 

"Will do. Okay, well I'll go do that now and I'll let you get yourself ready." Dr Hale smiled and walked out quickly. 

No. Stiles couldn't let that happen - not yet. With the mysterious goings-on, the lack of death and the weird eye flashes from Erica, Stiles was determined to get to the bottom of it. He got up and surveyed his room intently. The large duffel bag in the corner that his dad brought contained all his clothes and he shoved a pair of pyjamas in there before zipping it up and throwing it at the bottom of his bed. Then he went to the oak drawer beside the bed and pulled out a strip of tablets. 

Maybe he was making a ridiculous mistake, and that it was all in his head, but Stiles wanted to know what was going on; he couldn't do that from his room at home. So something had to be done. And if he wakes up the next day with nothing more than a headache, then he was right. So he popped a handful of tablets into his mouth and swallowed them quickly with a gulp of water. His head hit the pillow seconds before Dr Hale rushed into the room shouting "Stiles!" at the top of his voice. Stiles was already unconscious.


	5. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been ages since my last upload... forgive me! How is everyone finding season 4? IMO it has been reallllly good so far! I'm excited to see what happens. Let me know what your favourite bits of Season 4 have been in the comments below. Also, let me know what you think of the chapter and any advice/criticism you have for me. 
> 
> ****TW***** I also want to say there is a trigger warning about suicide in this chapter. it isn't anything major, but it does mention suicide in passing and I worry that this may affect some people reading. Please, if you ever feel like you can't continue with life... speak to someone. Speak to a friend/family member/teacher/blogger/author/person on the internet. Anyone. If you ever need to speak about anything and no one else is willing to listen, then I will listen to you.

“I can’t believe you would do something that stupid. It’s as if you don’t even want to get better! You have to be more careful, Stiles!” 

Stiles could take being shouted at by a doctor, but not by his dad. His dad’s voice cracked as he tried not to show how upset he was. Stiles looked from his dad to Dr Hale to Scott, all of them giving him the same stern glare. He was hoping for a sign of weakness from one of them, perhaps a small smile or nod to show that they didn’t think he had a death wish. He didn’t take the tablets to die, he took the tablets to prove he wouldn’t die. 

And he didn’t. 

Stiles woke up with a sore head, empty stomach and a group of angry people surrounding him. Scott was probably the most angry. He felt that it was his duty as Stiles’ best friend to watch out for him; Scott wanted to make sure that Stiles was happy and normal, but Stiles was far from that in his opinion. Best friends look out for their friends - that’s why they’re called your ‘best’ friend. Not just a regular, mundane friend. Scott genuinely cared about Stiles, he considered Stiles as his brother. 

But Stiles was alive. He was miraculously alive, because he had definitely taken enough tablets to die. Yet, here he was, alive and kicking. No tablets or machines could have detected the tablets in his system and nothing could have been done. 

Stiles knew that the only person who would enter the room after he took the tablets was Dr Hale. It was confirmed when his dad muttered in a low voice that he was “ever so grateful for finding him before anything serious happened”, and Stiles smirked to himself. However, the smirk wasn’t missed by either of his three interrogators.

“I don’t know what you’re smirking about. Do you know how lucky you are to be alive? I thought I told you to never ever refuse to let the doctors give you medicine, or give you an IV when you need it. Do you know what happens when you pull out an IV?” his dad said furiously. 

Stiles looked at the IV in his hand and back to his dad. Dr Hale was staring at him, his eyes focusing on Stiles’. 

“I- What?” 

“Your IV. You pulled it out. You do know that they are connected to a vein, right?” said the Sheriff. 

“Of course I do. That’s why I’m not going to pull it out…” Stiles said. 

His dad gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, that’s not going to do you any good now. Couldn’t you have decided that before?” 

“I have no idea-“ Stiles was cut short by Dr Hale, who suddenly needed to cough. Scott patted the doctor on the back heavily before both of them turned their attention back to Stiles. Dr Hale refocused his gaze on Stiles, his eyes almost commanding him to comply. 

“I mean, I have no idea why I would do that…” Stiles amended, “Dad, you know you don’t have to worry about me doing that ever again. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry,” 

It was Dr Hale’s turn to smirk, and Stiles couldn’t help feeling that there was more to this than he initially thought. Stiles turned to look at Scott, whose expression was mellowing by the second. 

“Oh, Stiles, you are an idiot. I thought you were trying to die. I thought it was my fault. I thought it was because of Lydia, too. I just… didn’t know why you would do that. You seemed fine,” said Scott. 

“You’re lucky that Dr Hale was just coming into your room to check on you, otherwise something really serious could have happened. You were only unconscious for a few minutes, but it could have been worse.” 

“Hmm, yes. I do know that, Dad.” 

The Sheriff looked at his son and sighed softly. To him, this was another unnecessary thing on the list of unnecessary things. Stiles liked to be complicated. He blamed it on the ADHD, the fact that his brain was incapable of processing the hundreds of thoughts that swirled through it everyday. 

Dr Hale coughed again, this time more pointedly, and addressed the Sheriff. “I think that it would be a good idea for me to have a small chat with Stiles. If you don’t mind, Sheriff. I also need to conduct some blood tests. If you and Scott want to wait outside…?” 

Scott smiled and left, along with the Sheriff who gave Stiles a look that said ‘be good’ and squeezed his leg. When they left, Stiles let out a sigh of relief and immediately focused his attention on the doctor, who had positioned himself in the visitor’s chair.

“Ripped out my IV, really?” his tone was almost sarcastic. 

“Would you rather I told them the truth: that you tried to kill yourself?” Dr Hale quipped back immediately. 

Stiles raised his eyebrows and said nothing. 

“That’s what I thought. Except you didn’t try to kill yourself, did you?” 

Stiles didn’t know what to say. He could tell him the truth, that he wanted to prove that something was going on, but maybe it wouldn’t be a smart decision to tell the person you are trying to figure out that you are trying to figure them out. 

“I-” Stiles began, “I, er, no. Well, maybe,” he finished. 

Dr Hale looked down as his hands as he spoke. “I’m a doctor. I know when someone shows signs of suicide or depression. You didn’t show any of those signs. The only signs you showed were stupidity, and also curiosity.” 

“But the way you told my dad, you still made it look like I had tried to kill myself,” Stiles persisted. 

“No it didn’t. It looked like you were being a stubborn teenager… and you must admit that you were acting like one. There’s no point getting your dad upset because you decided to take a few tablets. Which, by the way, weren’t tablets.” 

Stiles looked at the doctor and then to the empty strip on the table. “You mean… you-you...”

Dr Hale lifted the empty strip and turned it over. To Stiles’ shock they were blank. No package name, no brand. Just plain white. 

“You see, Stiles, when I first came here I wasn’t sure what to expect. You know what I mean, don’t you? People were dying pretty regularly, and I had enough on my plate without worrying about all those extra deaths from humans who had attempted suicide, but not succeeded. The relapsers. There’s only so much that therapy and counselling can do before someone relapses again. It’s human instinct. Humans are such addictive creatures.” 

Stiles couldn’t help noticing how Dr Hale referred to his patients as ‘humans’, rather than ‘people’, but he didn’t get a chance to question him about it as the doctor was continuing. 

“So I thought that if I gave them the chance to relapse, that they would see their mistake and change. Do you know that of the people who had attempted suicide by jumping off a bridge and then survived, every single one of them had said that all of their problems seemed fixable? Obviously I couldn’t throw people off a bridge,” he laughed and continued, “I don’t think that many would survive. But that isn’t my point, Stiles. My point is that I knew that people would relapse… or try to look for a way out. So Dr Reyes and I thought that we could give every patient being treated for attempted suicide a package of these tablets in their room. And then we could work from there.” 

Stiles was impressed. Dr Hale really did care about his patients, despite the reservations he may have about the doctor and his involvement with Chris Argent. Maybe he did mean what he said about trying to save lives. 

“But that doesn’t explain the fact the tablets did actually knock me out? Or was that some sort of trick?” Stiles asked. 

“Sort of. Erica and I came up with a concoction of herbs and spices that would act as a sedative if given in large doses. Something perfectly safe for human consumption if the inevitable did occur.” 

“Impressive. So you thought I was going to kill myself?” Stiles enquired. 

“No. Not really. We, uh, decided to put them in all rooms after there were a few incidents. We don’t always know everything about our patients. Especially ones who aren’t exactly helpful. It’s hard to maintain control in a job like this. I have to do what I can,” said Dr Hale. 

“So you like to know everything; you like to be in control?” asked Stiles. 

“I don’t mind it. It certainly helps,” Dr Hale replied impassively. His tone implying that he didn’t like where the conversation was headed. 

Luckily for him - and rather unluckily for Stiles - their conversation was interrupted by Erica, who had a patient vomiting blood rather violently. 

“I am sorry, Derek, but I really need your help. It’s very busy out there and everyone else has been contracted a patient,” she said sweetly. 

“Can’t you tell I’m busy here, Erica?” Dr Hale replied rather coldly, “I’ll be with you in a minute.” 

Erica pouted and closed the door behind her swiftly. Dr Hale switched his attention to Stiles instantaneously and addressed the younger man. 

“I told your dad when you were out that you would be fit for discharge, despite your current state of unconsciousness at the time,” 

“But I-” Stiles interjected. 

“You and I both know that nothing is wrong with you. Now, I know that you heard me talk to Chris Argent the night you arrived. I know that you have been walking around the hospital. I know about your little visit to the morgue. I know that you’ve been asking Erica all sorts of questions. I’m not stupid. If I wanted to, I could have stopped you doing all those things: I could have locked you in here, I could have made another nurse look after you. Perhaps Melissa McCall, Scott’s mother? I could have done all sorts of things to you. But I didn’t.” Dr Hale’s voice immediately became threatening. 

Stiles’ eyes widened as he took in everything the doctor was telling him: Dr Hale would always be one step ahead, and Stiles had to know that.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you? This is my hospital… and I don’t appreciate seventeen year old boys trying to act like they’re on some forensic crime television show. Leave the investigations for your father, Stiles, because you are too obvious in your intentions.” 

Dr Hale gave Stiles one final glance before getting out of the chair and leaving the room. Stiles took a few gulps and grabbed his head with his hands in frustration. Dr Hale was serious in his speech: Stiles had been caught interfering. Stiles was certain of that. No one would get annoyed about what he’d done. No one would even know about it - that was the weird thing. It was like Dr Hale had ears everywhere and eyes on the back of his head. 

That was impossible... right?

**Author's Note:**

> All criticism is welcome, granted it is constructive. Hope you like/enjoy it!


End file.
